Take Three: Third Life
by Silvereyes12
Summary: Continuing of Take Two: Second Death. Emily/JJ as requested. Spoilers for Lauren, 6.18. MULTICHAPTER. Update daily, except for Saturdays and Sundays.
1. Home

**Take Three: Third Life**

_Summary: It's been years. Emily(Élisabeth)/JJ friendship. Spoilers for Lauren, 6.18. _

_As requested, a sequel. Maybe will be multi-chaptered. Short. _

_A/N. Thanks to stargatechick11 and TaliDaniellaDavid for reviewing. And to everyone else who reviewed at favorited or alerted this story. You guys made my day._

**Location: Élisabeth Moreau's house. Paris, France.**

**Date and Time: December 19, 2019.**

"_You lie!"_

Jerking awake, Éisabeth Moreau fell out of her bed, onto the hard wooden floor. Even after eight years, in her dreams, she could feel the penetration of that damned wooden stake.

Being stabbed with a wooden stake wasn't meant for reality. It was meant for stabbing unreal vampires through the heart with. Being stabbed with a stake wasn't supposed to make her lose her identity.

Eight years later, she still hasn't recovered.

No, she never will until Ian Doyle is dead.

She remembered the note from JJ, still on her desk, from a week ago.

_Hello, Élisabeth. _

_How are you doing?_

_I just wanted you to know that DOD and the BAU are close to catching Doyle. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Eight years?_

_But you know better than anyone that if Doyle doesn't want to be caught, he won't be._

_H sends his regards. M, R, P, A, D all seemed to change. R doesn't spout random statistics anymore, and M and P never flirt. A and D are closer now, movie nights and game nights and such. _

_I miss you lots, Élisa._

_Love,_

_JJ._

Élisabeth sighed. Damn Doyle. Damn him. Declan was safe, but she doesn't know that anymore. She can't look for him. She's just by herself.

She's taken a job at the library, absorbing information so fast, she might even give Reid a run for his money now.

That is, if she ever saw him again.

Eight years since the night that took her life from her, and now, she really wants it back.

She wants to be back in the halls of the FBI, venting her problems to JJ, or playfully bantering back and forth with Morgan, or talking about Star Trek and zombie apocalypses with Reid.

She wants Hotch's stoic stability and Rossi's dry humor. She wants to talk to Ashley and learn more about her childhood, so they can trade stories back and forth.

Most of all, she wants her family back. Not so much as her mother, who was never emotionally there, but her BAU family, for them she put her life on the line. She wants to normalcy of a case, with JJ or Garcia briefing them, and the satisfaction of putting another serial killer away. She wants to be there when they catch Doyle. She wants to plant a .44 bullet between his eyes for taking her life from her.

She wants a lot of things, but, unfortunately for her, none are accessible until Doyle is buried six feet under.

Sometimes, she really wants out. She wants to face the whole and yell, "Give me back my life! _Give me back my damn life!"_

She hasn't made any friends, lately. After her encounter with Doyle, she's found it hard to trust, especially after JJ mentioned that it was Jeremy that was Doyle's mole. Jeremy was a man she trusted with her life, back in her Interpol days. She mistrusted the wrong man, and Tsia paid for it.

_Knock._

Glancing up, she heaved herself up from the couch to head over to the door. She knows it's JJ. Élisabeth insisted on paying for the plane ticket this time.

Mentally switching her thoughts from French to English, she opened the thick wooden door, allowing the beautiful blonde into her house.

"Hey Élisa."

The brunette grinned, "It's nice to see you, Jayje."

Flopping herself onto the leather couch, JJ yawned, "Henry's finally made it to the double digits, he turned ten a month ago, and Jack's got a case of the Terrible Teens."

Élisabeth raised a brow, "You and Hotch, huh?" Wriggling her brows, she said, "Details, JJ."

Sitting up quickly, the blonde protested, "No! I'm just helping him out with Jack, and he helps me with Henry."

"So you say."

"It's been eight years, Élisa." The blonde sighed. "I'm came with a reason today, actually."

She handed the brunette a picture.

After eight years of not seeming blood and gore, Élisabeth flinched a little, before recognizing the face in the picture.

Ian Doyle.

Her voice wavering slightly, she asked, "Who killed him?"

Blue eyes met her own brown, "Spence and Morgan." And answering Élisabeth's nonverbal question, she said, "Spence has remarkable good aim now. I think he lost part of himself eight years ago, and got it back in the firing range."

The emotions she kept locked up for eight years came spilling out all in one sentence.

"Can I go home?"

JJ grinned at the brunette before pulling her into a hug, "You can come home now, Em."

**A/N: New chapter posted Monday, because I have way too much stuff going on weekends. I'll try not to disappoint! **

**-S12**


	2. The Aftermath

**Take Three: Third Life**

**Chapter 2: The Aftermath**

_Summary: It's been eight years._

_Spoilers for Lauren, 6.18, Valhalla 6.17 and Sense Memory 6.14, Hopeless, 5.04, Demonology 4.17, and Damaged, 3.14. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, CBS does…but they don't deserve to._

_On with the show and enjoy, you guys! Many thanks to vampiremuggle, Faith Crain, i luv emily Prentiss 2012 and TaliDaniellaDavid for reviewing!_

**Location: FBI Headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. The BAU, bullpen and offices.  
Date: March 7, 2012.**

A lot has changed in a year. And it was a year to date when they lost a family member, a friend, a colleague.

It's been a year since Emily Prentiss died.

_Morgan._

He can't sit in the bullpen and do paperwork anymore, not without Prentiss in the desk adjacent to him. He can't sit and face the fact that he couldn't save her this time, the time when she really needed it. He can't sit and face the fact that if he looks over she wouldn't be there, grinning at him and asking if he wanted to get something he eat.

He can't sit and face himself and his demons.

"_She never made it off the table."_

He heard JJ's words echo in his head, and as always, it made him think.

If he'd gotten there a minute earlier, would it have been enough to save her life? If he'd tried harder to look at the case dispassionately, would they have caught Doyle before he shoved a wooden stake in her stomach? If he had pushed harder in that taxi cab, would she have been safe and _alive _now?

It's been a year and he still was haunted by her last words to him.

"_Let me go…"_

He couldn't let her go. Not his partner, not his friend, not his colleague. No matter what capacity she came in, the kick-ass FBI agent, or the friend, he could let her go. He might have to sit in solitude forever doing paperwork, but he could never _ever_ let her go.

He worked with her for five years. She did her share of teasing, berating, supporting and defending him in five years. It was too much to confront the fact that he never said so much as a thank you to her for those five years.

It's been a year, and he still hasn't recovered.

_Garcia._

Her figurines and color haven't been enough to distract her lately. After that fateful day a year ago, the colors in the world seemed to have dimmed.

Her omniscience wasn't enough to save her sister, her friend, her confidant.

Omniscience wasn't enough to save Emily Prentiss.

She tried, _God how she tried_, but it was too late. The second that cursed person named Ian Doyle, or so loving dubbed the-stupid-dambass-murderer-leader-of-the-breakaway-IRA-faction-who-should-get-his-balls-ripped-off, had gotten out of North Korea, her sexy FBI agent's fate was sealed.

On hindsight, she knew that once her girl had gotten into this, there was no way she was coming out alive.

She's changed a lot, this past year. When her phone rings, she doesn't answer with inappropriate, but tolerated answers. When the team calls her for information, she speaks with a clipped and precise tone, and never goes off topic, like she used to.

She doesn't call Reid 'boy genius' or Morgan 'hunk of dark chocolate thunder' anymore. All those names are associated with "my-sexy-kick-ass-FBI-agent", and that topic still rips at her fragile heart even a year later.

She and JJ haven't had one of their Tuesday morning breakfast for a month, because it just seems _wrong_ to have her and JJ, and not have Emily Prentiss with them, laughing and teasing.

No, nothing will ever be the same. Unless the heavens above take mercy, and give all of them back their friend.

_Reid._

The one thing that hurts him most is that he never got to say goodbye.

JJ's haunting words to them still lingers in the forefront of his mind. It would almost be a blessing if he couldn't remember those seven words, and the whole ordeal that went with the words, "She never made it off the table."

Seven words, and his world was shattered.

No more could be sprout the randomest statistics and have her genuinely be interested in half of them. Never again could be talk to her about Star Trek, or zombie apocalypses, or alien invasions, or have her beat him at chess or poker. She could never tease him about having 'baby geniuses' or that bartender and if he was going to call her back.

He was one of the pall-bearers at her funeral, and even then he was still broken, tears running down his face at the prospect of never seeing her again. His friend, Emily Prentiss, wouldn't be at the bullpen, when he returned at a week, sneaking her files into his stack or teasing Morgan about his 'thousand push-ups a day' routine.

He wouldn't hear Garcia interrogating her about her latest date, or overheard her talking to JJ about his godson.

The only person who knew about his headaches, migraines and the images in his head, had taken his secret to the grave.

And really, he kind of expected it.

After all, Emily Prentiss was not the kind of woman who'd throw up at a crime scene. He was a profiler, for seven years, and it wasn't enough for him to realized sometime was _seriously_ wrong with her.

"_Lauren Reynolds is dead."_

He guesses he could now say, "Lauren Reynolds and Emily Prentiss are dead."

Even though Lauren Reynolds and Emily Prentiss are one and the same.

_Rossi._

Every day, he walks into the bullpen and into his office, looking straight ahead, because he knows that if he looked any other way, he'd look at her desk, which hasn't been emptied or cleaned, and he'd break down, just like he did at the hospital a year ago. When he sits in his office, drinking his coffee with a shot of whiskey, he remembers a long time ago when Emily Prentiss, Hotch and himself shared a bottle of Jack Daniels after a case.

He remembers the vulnerability in her eyes when she learned that John Cooley might have been the rogue priest's next victim. He remembers the way she supported him with the Galen family.

He remembers the strength she shared with him, over the last four and a half years, and he can't help but feel he's lost a daughter.

He had to asked Seaver to profile her, for god's sake, because they were all _too close_ and Seaver had only known her for a few weeks.

He especially knew that Prentiss was private, and he should have kept her closer a year ago and a day, when he and Hotch were giving the profile of Doyle. He should've known the lengths she went to protect him and the team.

Not that they're much of a team anymore.

Yes, they still caught the bad guys. Yes, they're still passionate about their jobs, but there was no playful bantering, or flirting between Morgan and Garcia. There was no more nights out at the bars, no more hanging out at each other houses, nothing that showed that they were family.

Nothing.

Emily Prentiss' death tore them all apart.

_Hotch._

Everything's changed.

Yes, they put away the bad guys away each time, but it never seems to make up for the one time they didn't.

A year ago, they didn't catch Ian Doyle, and the team, especially Emily Prentiss, paid for that mistake.

Admittedly, he knows that Prentiss is still alive, under a different name and in a different country. He knows that JJ is keeping an eye on her and has agents following her, making sure that Ian Doyle won't come close enough to her to take her again.

He knows that currently, she's safe and that's all that matters.

Well, not quite.

His team will never be the same again. That flawless bonding that once was now isn't. It died with Emily Prentiss and it looks as if it'll never be reestablished.

He misses the playful bantering and flirting and laughter that came from the bullpen. He misses Reid's "physics magic" rockets and the _doink_ sound it makes when it hits one of the unlucky people in the surrounding area. He misses Garcia's teasing answers and inappropriate messages. He misses Morgan's presence in the bullpen, because he knows it's what keeps the rest going. He misses Reid's random statistics and quotes on the plane.

Most of all, he misses Prentiss' snarky and sarcastic comments, when they've been called in at _four in the morning_ and he misses her contagious laughter and the wide grins. He misses the way she and JJ would walk in sometimes, when JJ has a day off, and have coffee for everyone, including him and Dave.

He misses her acute minds on cases when they really could've used it and the way she could lighten the atmosphere with one light-hearted comment. He misses the way she'd stubbornly refuse to go to the hospital even if she got bashed in the head by a two by four.

Maybe the thing he misses most about Emily Prentiss was her self-confidence and strong, supportive presence. Maybe he misses the way she had walked him back to his apartment after his attack from Foyet. Maybe his misses the way she had resigned so she wouldn't help end his career. Maybe he just misses her.

Not the colleague, not subordinate, the friend, the partner.

He misses Emily, not Agent Prentiss.

**Location: Paris, France, Élisabeth Moreau's house.  
Date and time: March 7, 2012. 9:05 PM**

_JJ._

She pities the woman in front of her. She's lost so much in the span of a year.

She's lost her family, her identity, her friends, her home, her safety. She's lost the support and the purpose the FBI and the BAU gave her. She's lost the meaning of life, really. She's lost Morgan's older brother routine, and Reid's crazy and analytical mind and his ability to play a good game of chess. She's lost Rossi, her father figure, and Hotch, the solemn presence in her life since childhood. She's lost Garcia, the bubbly, way-too-hyper-and-giggly sister.

She's all Emily Prentiss has left.

Only she, Jennifer Jareau, knows where Emily Prentiss is. Even Hotch doesn't know. And it's her assignment. Her baby, her husband doesn't know where she is right now. They don't know when she'll be back, and she's _so afraid_ that if Doyle comes back, he'll come for her too. For her, and Emily, and Henry and Will, because of her.

Sometimes, she wonders why she does this job. A job that could very well leave her child, her flesh and blood, childless just because she chases the world's most dangerous monsters, and protects those who need protection.

The way Emily Prentiss needs her protection right now, as much as she loathes to admit it.

She pities the shell of the woman that was Emily Prentiss.

Emily Prentiss was sweet, funny, sarcastic and supportive all rolled into one. She was lively, and outgoing, although extremely reserved. She liked Vonnegut and chick flicks. She liked chocolate and coffee, two things JJ could always provide.

But this woman in front of her isn't anything like Emily Prentiss. She doesn't talk, doesn't respond, doesn't eat unless forced, doesn't move, doesn't do _anything_ unless forced too. She's already thinking about taking this shell for help.

But she doesn't blame her.

If she were in Emily's shoes right now, she'd just end it. End the fear of Doyle following her, end the fear of him finding Declan, end the fear for her family being killed because of her.

She's nowhere near as strong as Emily Prentiss, and she really hopes she never will have to be.

**Location: Unknown.  
Date and time: March 7, 2012. 8:09 AM**

_Doyle._

It's been a year since Emily Prentiss died.

And he's no closer to finding his son that he was a year ago.

He wants revenge, but he needs to evade all the countries and their intelligence agencies. CIA, MI6, InterPol, all. They all want blood.

Namely, his blood.

**A/N: Hopefully that makes up for the wait you guys. I was thinking about pairings, so if you'd like to see some pairings, shoot me a review or PM. Any pairings work, but JJ/Will is established already…soo… and please, no slash. Can't do it and make it good. But if you really, really insist, I'll do my best. **

**Prentiss/Hotch, Prentiss/Rossi, Prentiss/Morgan, Prentiss/Reid, Ashley/Reid, Garcia/Morgan...anything of the sort. **

**Also, I couldn't do one point of view for Seaver and do it justice, so I just left it out. We haven't been given too many Seaver and Prentiss scenes, so not much to go on for that.**

**Next chapter up tomorrow!**

**-S12**


	3. Closure

**Take Three: Third Life  
Chapter Three: ****Sail On Silver Girl**

_Spoilers for 6.18 Lauren. _

_Cheers you guys!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, because if I did, JJ and Emily would still be there. _

**Location: New Orleans, Louisiana. Ian Doyle's outpost.  
Date: December 17, 2019**

"You sick son of a bitch!"

Ian Doyle only had about a second to turn around before he noticed the dark man barreling towards him. And he smirked, drawing his handgun from his belt and leveling it at the dark man's head.

"Move and you die." He stated calmly, mentally laughing at the man, whose very posture oozed grief, pain and anger.

Doyle recognized this man, eight years ago, in Boston, kneeling over the woman that was once Emily Prentiss and his Lauren.

Derek Morgan, his sources tell him, last spoke to her before she died on the operating table. Perhaps this man was beating himself up, everyday, every minute, and Ian Doyle being himself, he took pleasure in that fact.

"It's very nice to meet you, Derek."

The man's eyes flashed and he growled, "You killed her."

"You took her life, and you tore my team apart." He stalked closer to Doyle, not afraid of the weapon aimed at him. "You killed her, and everything changed. _Everything_ changed."

Did he really care? No.

He didn't notice the younger man, Reid, his sources would tell him, edge into the room, leveling his gun at him.

But when he did, he noted the steely cold look and pure determination in the man's eyes, a look that wasn't there eight years ago.

But eight years ago, Dr. Reid wasn't good with a gun.

Now he could probably give JJ a run for her money.

And for the first time, Ian Doyle felt afraid. His time had come, and he knew it, and it was all because of one person who inserted herself into his life sixteen years ago.

Lauren Reynolds.

He always imagined he would go down in a hail of bullets, and so he did. Well, not so much as hail as two bullets.

Morgan and Reid fired at the exact same time.

One landed between the eyes, and the other lodged in Ian Doyle's heart.

Reid pulled a shaking Morgan from Ian Doyle's dead body and he distinctly heard the mantra the older man was muttering over and over and over.

"_He killed her. He took Prentiss' life."_

Eight years of searching were over, and finally, _finally, _there was closure.

Closure from the fact that Ian Doyle would never pose a threat to the team, to anybody.

It was enough.

Little did Reid and Morgan know, the blonde woman they all knew and respected booked the next flight to the Alps in France.

Well, hell, if they knew what was coming.

**A/N: Short, I know. New chapter tomorrow. Prentiss' goes back to DC with JJ.**

**-S12**


	4. Reunion

**Take Three: Third Life  
Chapter 4: Forgiveness**

_Summary: JJ/Emily (as requested, and for all you Morgan and Prentiss fans, there's another story coming up for you guys.), spoilers for Lauren 6.18, Valhalla 6.17 and Sense Memory 6.14._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. All rights go to CBS._

**Location: FBI Headquarters, the BAU, conference room. Quantico, Virginia  
Date and Time: December 21, 2019, 10:30 PM.**

It's been eight years, Emily Prentiss thought, as she looked around at what use to be her home. Leaning slightly in JJ's touch, she looked around, mentally keeping track of the changes that had appeared.

There wasn't much, except that her desk was now cleared out, but according the Hotch's demands, it hadn't been touched yet. No one was residing in her desk, yet.

She was well aware of what she was about to do might cost JJ her job, but if JJ was willing to take the risk, then so was she.

"Hey, JJ, whatcha doing…what?"

JJ spun around, seeing the handsome dark man make his way over to her, before coming to an abrupt stop as he noticed the person standing next to her.

"_Prentiss?"_

He stumbled back, "That's impossible…" he whispered, rubbing his eyes, just to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating.

Then suddenly, he straightened and his dark eyes flashed.

"You lied!"

Emily flinched, remembering the words a long time ago spoken by Ian Doyle, before focusing on the present.

JJ noticed the flinch and wrapped an arm around the older woman's waist, giving her silent support.

Morgan was visibly shaking, struggling to hold back all the emotions. Joy, relief, pain, anger, _and above all, betrayal._

And then he turned his eyes to the blonde next to brunette, and hissed, "Why, JJ? We _trusted_ you! We would've kept it a secret!"

Hearing the hiss from outside, Reid, Rossi and Garcia rushed in, almost running into each other as they saw the brunette.

Garcia reacted first, pushing past the three people and enveloping the brunette in a bone-crushing hug, fighting the shit-eating grin on her faces, and the tears in her eyes.

"Thank god…"

And when Garcia wasn't there, Reid was. The boy (well, he's a man now) genius that she genuinely missed _so much_.

He had changed, so much, Emily noted. His eyes were harder than she last remembered, and his hands had callouses from his gun. He seemed so much more serious, and so much less awkward.

And when Reid wasn't there, Rossi was, his embrace both fierce and tender, the embrace of a father figure. And when Rossi wasn't there, Hotch was.

Not hugging her of couse, Hotch wouldn't do that, but he was grinning at her, a full smile.

But by the time the reunion finished Morgan had left.

JJ noticed the brunette's slightly defeated posture, and the moist eyes, and she decided to go have a chat with Morgan.

Leaning up towards the brunette, she whispered, "I'll go talk to him, Em. It'll be okay."

As the brunette turned towards her, she smiled, not the grin that once came so easily, but a careful smile.

"Thank you, Jennifer."

**Location: FBI Academy, the gym. Quantico, Virginia  
Date and Time: 10:37 PM, December 21, 2019**

_Morgan._

She lied! JJ, the sister, the colleague, the _friend_ they all trusted, lied to all of them.

As he let out his anger on the unfortunate punching bag in front of him, he heard the door open, and heard the soft footfalls of the said woman.

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"It was necessary to protect her and you guys." the blonde replied, just as quietly. "Without faking her death, Doyle might have come back for you and come after the team to get to her. It was a lose-lose situation, Derek."

"But why, JJ? We could've kept the secret. _Eight years_, JJ! We all suffered for eight years! And for what? Just to discover that she was alive along?"

Walking up to the dark profiler, she laid a hand on his shoulder, "It was the best way, Derek, to protect everyone. DOD insisted, the British Consul and InterPol insisted too. And we knew that Em was the best chance to get to Doyle or find Declan. She could look without being afraid of Doyle. She was afraid, yes, but she did what she had to."

Earnest blue eyes met the dark brown.

"You didn't see her after, Derek. She was so _broken_. I had to force her to eat, force her to do anything. All she did was curl up on the couch and stare outside."

Morgan's firm resolve began to waver as the blonde continued.

"And I knew that she was always thinking of you guys, her expression for the better half of the years was nostalgic. Everything she did, there was a memory associated with the BAU, and it hurt her more than anything."

"I think she hurt more than any of you, because in addition to leaving, she knew it was herself that was causing your pain. She knew it."

That said, JJ squeezed the muscled shoulder lightly, as the dark man shuddered.

"I'm sorry, JJ. It was just so surprising."

Jennifer Jareau smiled tightly, "I'm not the one you have to apologize to, Derek. Go talk to her."

**Location: Jennifer Jareau's house, Washington D.C.  
Date and Time: December 21, 2019 11: 45PM**

Derek Morgan found himself standing in front of JJ's house.

He winced in self-loathing as he remembered the words he threw at his ex-colleague.

"_You lied!"_

He knew she had issues with those particular two words. As Doyle had said himself, it were the last words before her final beating began. Her final words to Ian Doyle had ended with him shouting, _"You lie!"_

What the hell possess him to throw those very words right back at her face? He was such an idiot.

He knocked twice and waited.

Lo and behold, it was the very person he came to see that answered the door.

"Hey, Emily."

The first thing he noted were her dark eyes, so much harder and sharper than ever. Five years she had disappeared, JJ told him, to search for the little boy, who'd be eleven now. Five years, JJ hadn't heard from her lover, because of Ian Doyle.

Five years.

Looking up into Emily Prentiss' dark eyes, he said, sincerely, "I'm sorry."

Her eyes softened somewhat as she let him into the house.

"I get it, Derek, I do. It hurt so much to know that I was the pain of all your pain. It was like I was ripping my own heart out."

At last, he embraced the still-too-thin brunette. The embrace of an older brother.

Their family was reunited, at last, after eight years.

**A/N: There you go you guys. This story is going to wrap up pretty soon, only a few more chapters. I was planning on showing the end of Will and JJ's marriage (I HATE Will, and that episode, In Heat killed me) and the beginning of JJ and Emily's.**

**Toodles!**

**-S12**


	5. Betrayal

**Take Three: Third Life  
Chapter Five: Betrayal**

_This chapter focuses mainly on JJ, not Emily._

_dundundundun…hinthint…I hate Will._

_Summary: It's been eight years. Spoilers for 2.18 Jones, 3.17 In Heat and 3.20 Lo-Fi. Spoilers for 6.18 Lauren, too. (duh.)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, and especially don't own Captain Crawfish because if I did, he would've been the one in SUV, not Hotch and Kate._

_Here we go. Like I said, JJ/Emily now._

XXX

**Location: William LaMontagne's apartment. Washington D.C.**

**Date and Time: April 3, 2014, 10:00 PM**

Jennifer Jareau stopped dead outside the door of her husband's other home, his apartment, noticing the other voice in his apartment. Normally, this wouldn't have worried her because her husband was known for inviting his old friends from New Orleans to catch up or watch football, but this voice sounded distinctly feminine. And slightly familiar.

_He wouldn't, not after three years. Not after six years of being together. Ever since New Orleans, or Miami, or even New York..._

They've been married three years, and this? This she didn't even want to consider.

Quietly, she slid her key into the lock, silently letting herself into his home, listening to the southern drawl of her husband and the other person's, definitely female, voice reply. Never before had she felt so nervous, so isolated, so _deserted._

Soundlessly moving to her husband's bedroom, she noticed the voices had decidedly gotten louder, and that the TV was most certainly not on.

Now, that sense of foreboding was pulsing through her veins, and she thought she knew. The man she had a child with…

…was currently lounging on his bed, half-naked with a younger woman that she couldn't quite remember the name of, but knew, straddling him. She froze, her mind unable to deal with the trauma that was just thrown at it. She stayed long enough for both to realize that she was here before she fled, desolation flooding her, to her son's room, picking him up and enough clothes to last at least two weeks before leaving her husband's home. It was enough time for the scene to permanently burn into her retinas.

It was also enough time for her to call Garcia and tell her book the next flight to Paris, which was in three hours, and call her boss to tell him she was taking some personal time, indefinitely.

With Henry in her hands, she drove back to her apartment to pack her own clothes, her mind blank and her heart broken.

**Location: Paris, France. Élisabeth Moreau's second home.**

**Date: April 4, 2014. 12:07 AM**

Élisabeth was jerked awake by the banging on her door, sharp repeated knocks. The person must've been knocking for at least five minutes because she heard the person say, _Ouvrez la porte, Élisabeth!"_

Ah, it's JJ.

Quickly rolling off her bed, she stumbled to the door, sleepily murmuring_, "Je viens, je viens."_ Unlatching the door and gesturing the younger blonde into her apartment, she looked questioningly at JJ. The blonde didn't usually come at midnight, and was usually more polite, and also didn't have Henry hanging off her arm.

"JJ?"

The blonde didn't respond, her normal sky blue eyes much, much darker and clouded with pain and exhaustion.

Emily took the sleeping boy from her friend's arms and led both of them to her bedroom, then set Henry down on the middle of her large bed so he wouldn't accidently roll off.

Making sure that the windows were locked, she took JJ by the arm and sat her down on the couch, waiting for the dam to break.

And finally the blonde spoke, her words cracked and broken, "He…he _cheated on me, _Em." Starting slightly as JJ used her real name, she gathered the obviously distraught woman into her arms, slowly stroking the blonde hair and whispering, "It's okay to cry, Jayje. Just let it out."

JJ relaxed into her friend's tender embrace, and let the floodgates go, crying, sobbing into her friend's shoulder, letting out all the hurt and betrayal she felt. She felt her consciousness fading and she drifted off, still wrapped in her friend's arms.

Élisabeth Moreau gently picked up the woman and laid her on the bed in her spare bedroom. Gently brushing away the strands of blond hair, she kissed the woman on the forehead, and quietly shut the door, just pausing to check on her friend's little boy, still sound asleep and ignorant of his father's betrayal.

Ignorance is, after all, bliss.

**A/N: There you go, all my lovely readers and JJ/Em shippers! Say goodbye to Captain Crawfish! woohoo. Anyways, about three chapters to go, one with JJ and Emily's start of relationship, one with Emily and Morgan and the BAU, and one with the future of JJ and Emily! Oh, and if you're wondering what the French is...**

**"Ouvrez la porte: Open the door!"**

**"Je viens, je viens: I'm coming, I'm coming."**

**Thanks to tazlvr2001 for catching the date error!**

**Toodles!**

**-S12**


	6. Confirmation

**Take Three: Third Life  
Chapter Six: Confirmation**

_Summary: JJ/Emily…Emily's back at the BAU with more scars and a young blonde boy hanging on her hand…and it's not Henry. Spoilers for 3.04 Children of the Dark and 6.18 Lauren._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Duh._

_A/N: Will be updating on the weekend! For those for are interested, I'm currently writing M/P and H/P stories. Go check them out over the weekend when they're done. _

_And if there are any errors, don't hesitate to review and tell me. English isn't my first or second language so..yeah._

**Location: The Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI Headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.**

**Date: January 15, 2020**

Stepping back into the BAU with a heavy heart, Emily Prentiss looked around for Hotch, and found him in no place but his office. Heading up the stairs she was once so familiar with, she steeled herself as she entered his office.

Sticking her dark head in the door, she asked, "Hey, Hotch, can I speak to you? If you have a minute?"

Nodding at the brunette, he said, "Whatever you need, I can…"

She interrupting him, knowing what he would say. "Hotch, I came to confirm my resignation from the FBI."

Shocked into speechlessness for a moment, Hotch stared at the woman, before quietly questioning, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She sighed, "Not really, but Hotch you have to understand that his team runs on the trust that each member is looking out for each other backs. I guarantee that if I asked Derek or Reid if they trusted me enough to watch their backs, they would say no. And," she added, "JJ managed to get me a job in the state department. But before I go," she paused here, "there's someone I'd like for you to meet."

Hotch looked at the young, blonde, blue-eyed boy who silently walked into his office.

"Hotch, this is Declan."

Extending his hand, Hotch shook the younger boy's hand. He saw trust and empathy in those innocent blue eyes, and knew that this boy's childhood had not been tainted by Ian Doyle's presence, which was probably Prentiss' doing.

He thanked the heavens that this was a boy he didn't have to worry about anytime soon.

Walking over to the boy and leaning down slightly, he asked, "How old are you know, Declan?"

With innocent blue eyes, Declan turned to him and said, "Twelve…I just turned twelve, yesterday, right mom?"

_Mom._

Prentiss smiled affectionately at the boy and murmured, "Yes, Dec."

Smiling at the stoic agent, the boy rushed back to his pseudo-mother.

Sometimes, Hotch thought, it was truly heartening to see the young innocence of a child who hasn't seen the worst of what humanity had to offer yet.

**Location: Morgan's office.**

Hearing the knock, Morgan called, "Come on in."

And as he watched he saw the brunette stick her head in the office, and smiled at her.

"Hey, Princess, what's up?"

The brunette's eyes darkened slightly, and he knew what she was going to say and beat her to the punch.

"You're resigning, aren't you?"

She sighed, crossing the distance between them in two strides, "I'm sorry, Derek," she murmured, squeezing his arm lightly, before he pulled her into a hug.

Feeling her tremble in his arms, he realized she was crying, and as he tightened his arms around the woman and pressed his lips to the woman's temple, he saw the young boy outside.

And the moment he saw the boy he knew.

_Declan._

"You brought him here," he whispered.

Wiping at her eyes, she nodded, "He wanted to meet you guys, his mother's friends."

With that, Morgan promptly pulled Emily Prentiss back into his embrace.

**A/N: Two chapters to go, you guys! Beginning of JJ/Em and future of JJ/Em! Hope y'all liked it. M/P story will be up by this afternoon, and the H/P story by Saturday afternoon.**

**Cheers!**

**-S12**


	7. Author's Note

**Family emergency means I will not be updatings for at least three days. Expect story to be done, however, by then, along with the M/P and H/P.**

**Sorry you guys.**

**-S12**


	8. Realization

**Take Three: Third Life**

**Chapter 8: Realization**

_Summary: Just read the chapters. .. Spoilers for 2.15 Revelations and 3.18 The Crossing and 6.18 Lauren. More JJ-centricness._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds and stuffs. _

**Location: Paris, France. Élisabeth Moreau's home.**

**Date and Time: April 4, 2014, 8:09AM**

Jennifer Jareau slowly awoke, blinking at the bright sunlight that shone through the room. And the first thing she remembered was devastating pain. Pain that only betrayal could bring. Then she wondered where the hell she was.

She distinctly heard Henry's babble, so she knew that he was okay, but she really wanted to see him so she slowly heaved herself from the comfortable bed and changed into clothes from her bag. She was still numb from the sight she witnessed yesterday, she didn't really feel anything.

Walking out of the room she resided in yesterday, she was hit by the memory of a long plane flight to Paris and waking her friend us in the middle of the night. She remembered the tears, the words exchanged, the tender, warm embrace. She wasn't so sure about the kiss, though.

Slowly, silently padding in the hall, she watched quietly as Emily/Élisabeth danced around the kitchen, with Henry trying to keep up with her movements as she cooked. The sight warmed her heart. It was something she would love to wake up to every morning, the simple sight of her best friend and Henry making breakfast.

_Wait…where the hell did that thought come from?_

Shrugging off the sudden thought, she made herself known, entering the kitchen and sitting down at the bar counter, grinning at Emily, or Élisabeth (she was never sure what she should call her), and Henry, her own flesh-and-blood.

JJ watched as the brunette nimbly dodged around an excited Henry and made her way over to her side. Feeling the comforting presence of her friend, she leaned slightly on the elder woman, sighing lightly and listened to the soft, melodic voice ask her a question.

"You okay, Jayje?"

Shaking her head lightly, she answered, "Not really, but," she looked up at the brunette, "I think I will be."

She giggled lightly as she watched Emily sprint back towards Henry before he got into the bowl of extra pancake mix and ruined breakfast. She observed as the brunette stuck him in front of the TV and popped in a kid movie (VeggieTales or something of the like). And after that, she nodded her thanks as a plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon was set down in front of her with a little flourish.

That done, Emily sat down next to her and asked, with a bit of concern in her voice, "What happened, JJ?"

Damn, she should've known that the peace and quiet of the relatively new day wouldn't last long. But she knew she needed to get it out or else she'd become someone she didn't really want to become. So she took a deep breath and began she explanation.

"So I was going home yesterday from DOD…"

She couldn't really have asked for a better listener. Emily was patient, she didn't pry, she didn't interrupt, because she knew the blonde would get on with the story in her own time. And when she finished her story, she knew a few tears had escaped because Emily was softly brushing away her tears. She leaned into the touch, and as Emily pulled her closer, she cried, for the three lost years, for the pain of betrayal, for the pain she felt for everything.

One thing she was certain of was that if Emily Prentiss ever got back to the States, William LaMontagne Jr. would pay for this.

She felt herself dozing off, and relaxing completely as the older woman's arms wrapped around her, creating a sense of safety and comfort, the two things she had always wanted since she was a child. She felt one more thing before she fell asleep.

She felt her friend kiss her forehead again, and she fell asleep smiling.

**A/N: So there you go! One more chapter, and this story will be done. Expect a sequel. Or prequel. Both are cool. Sorry for lack of updates, you guys, you know, family emergencies aren't fun. Especially when you have to travel half-way across the world.**

**Well, M/P and H/P stories should be up later. So NicknHotchfan and DaniminaWhore, just bear with me a bit longer.**

**Thanks to Wingyin87 for posting **_**End Game **_**for me.**

**~S12**


	9. Eternal

**Take Three: Third Life**

**Chapter Nine: Eternal**

_Summary: JJ and Emily's future._

_Disclaimer: Do I look like I own Criminal Minds? ..Aw hell noo._

_A/N: Sorry it took so long to get up. School and stuffs, you know? This is the last chapter. If you'd like a sequel or prequel, just let me know. Review or PM._

_Enjoy!_

**Location: Emily Prentiss' home in Quantico, Virginia.**

**Date and Time: March 22, 2020. 9:54 PM**

Emily Prentiss' sighed as she headed back to her apartment, after staying late at the office to finish up the quickly accumulating paperwork on her desk.

Heading up the stairs to the fifth floor (she didn't feel like taking the elevator today), she gathered her steadily depressing thoughts, which weren't helped by the terrible weather, before she entered her home, to JJ, to Henry. She wasn't pleased by today's turn of events, but rather, they depressed her. The loss of a teammate was never easy.

She and Agent Erickson were close. Being the only two female agents in their team, they gravitated towards each other for support. Not close enough to make 'Agent Jareau', as Heather called JJ, jealous, but enough to comfort each other.

Her mind was numb, her face blank as she inserted the key to her apartment. Before she even finished unlocking the door, it was promptly yanked open by her wife.

JJ looked sympathetically at the blank woman before tugging her gently inside to the warmth of her home. Taking in the dull murky brown eyes that usually were a lively brown-black, and the defeated slump of her partner's shoulders, she embraced her, noting the tension coursing through the lithe body.

She stroked the almost black hair gently before sitting her down on the couch, where Henry couldn't hear because he was up in his room doing homework.

"What happened, Emily?"

The elder woman sighed, again, before launching into her story, "Yesterday, we got a case. Nothing special, just some terrorist trying to send off a message to his partner, in Arabic. We intercepted it, and I got the job of translating it. After that, it took a day to find this guy's location so we could put him, no big deal.

When we got to his location this morning, the whole damn house was booby trapped, like a house of horrors, something of the like," she gestured vaguely. "All I heard was a gunshot, then my partner, you know, Heather Erickson, was shot with an arrow. Right in the chest."

Blue eyes filled with tears as her partner continued.

"I felt her blood all over me, JJ." Emily knew she could sympathize, JJ had been in the exact same position years ago, with that judge's blood all over her.

Holding her wife as she cried, Jennifer Jareau soothed her as best as she could, waving Henry off as he came downstairs to check on his other mother.

"It's okay, Em." she whispered, her heart breaking for her wife.

"_JJ?"_

_She looked up, still frantically scrubbing the blood from her face, her hands, her body. Dark eyes met her own in the mirror, before Emily caught her wrist, and took the bloodied towel from her hand. _

"_Sit."_

_She obeyed, sitting on the floor, before the woman in front of her knelt, gently wiping the blood from her face, tenderly, almost. She felt as she was being cleansed, slowly, of the feeling of the judge's blood all over herself, something she really didn't want to feel again._

_Emily pulled her up, and ran her hands under the tap, washing away the remnants of blood._

_She looked up into black-brown eyes, and her own filling with unshed tears, she said, "Thank you."_

_The brunette embraced her, before leading her back to the bed in their hotel room, and gently pushing her down. Emily sat on the bed, next to her, brushing back stray strands of blonde hair and intertwining their fingers._

_The nightmares stayed away that night._

She didn't remember going to bed, but when she woke up, she heard the bathroom sink running. She glanced at the clock.

_It's only 5:30._

She slowly dragged herself out of bed, and she silently watched her wife try to get the nonexistent blood off her hands. Crossing the distance between them in three strides, she caught her partner's wrists, drying them and shutting off the water.

She lead them both back to bed, and she held her in her arms until dawn broke and the first light began to shine through the curtains.

Emily was totally relaxed, sleeping away the grief and pain, and there were no nightmares. JJ discreetly removed herself, before placing a call to Emily's boss, telling him that she would be taking a day off, before calling her own and telling him the same thing. She woke Henry, told him to be quiet because his mother was still sleeping. She got him his lunch, saw him out to the school bus and quietly walked back inside.

Slipping back into the bedroom, she sat silently, watching her wife, and waiting for her to wake up. Lacing their fingers together, she simply observed.

It was about nine before Emily stirred, stretching slightly and rolling over to face the warm body laying next to her, except, that JJ was sitting up, just watching her, like a guardian angel. Her eyes filled at the thought. Quickly blinking them away, she glanced at the clock.

_OH SHIT…_

"Relax Em," the blonde said, chuckling lightly at the fractionally horrified brunette, "both you and I have the day off."

"Did you call in?" Emily queried. The blonde shrugged, "It wasn't that big of a deal."

The brunette rolled back over on her side, and nearly falling asleep again, murmured, "Well, goodnight…er…morning, Jennifer."

The blonde mock-pouted, "What no good-morning kisses?"

Emily looked over at the giggling blonde, before, in a show of amazing agility, she flipped over, pinning the younger woman beneath her.

She kissed her slowly, before initiating anything deeper, then moved her way down, sucking, nibbling her way down the fragrant throat, and then promptly flipped back over and fell asleep.

JJ could only gape, open-mouthed, at the now sleeping brunette.

"Emily Prentiss, you cannot just leave me like this!"

A slightly amused snort came from the figure, before, "I can't?"

"No!" the blonde squeaked.

"Well then."

She flipped back over, smirking at JJ, who was currently pinned beneath her.

"Je t'aime."

JJ smiled, "I love you too."

**A/N: Well, that's it for this. Another story will be going up about Em/JJ, called the Crossings. Small one-shots based on songs. H/P will be up before that, I swear.**

**Sorry for late updates, family emergencies and all that jazz.**

**Toodles!**

**~S12**


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